


Never Have I Ever

by Baroness_Blixen



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Never Have I Ever, Some UST, Truth or Dare, a bit more too, early seasons, mulder and scully playing games, snowstorm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 02:56:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16925202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baroness_Blixen/pseuds/Baroness_Blixen
Summary: Trapped in a hotel during a snowstorm, Mulder and Scully decide a harmless game of Never Have I Ever.





	Never Have I Ever

“Hey Scully, wanna play a game?” In other circumstances, this situation might be considered romantic. But not for Mulder and Scully, certified partners and friends. They’re trapped here in this shabby hotel room with no TV, no radio or any form of entertainment. The old radiator rumbles, providing the only background noise. All they have here is each other.

“What kind of game?"Any kind, Mulder thinks. He’s known Scully for a year and this is the second time they’re in the same room scantily clad. Well, she is. Her clothes are drying all over the place. Her skirt is joined by her stockings on a chair, her bra is hanging off the radiator winking at Mulder. Both their shoes are standing there, drops of snow still falling off. The snowstorm surprised them a couple of hours ago on their way to the airport. Rather it surprised him. Scully warned him about it before they even got into their rental car. He didn’t listen. The sky was blue, not a cloud in sight. Now he knows that he should have listened. When the first few flurries danced on the windshield, he merely chuckled. That didn’t last long. It’s a wonder Scully isn’t angry for him after making her walk through inches and inches of snow.

"How about… Never Have I Ever?” He grins at her, not for a moment believing she would even consider playing the game. But out of her Scully clothes, in full Dana mood, she is a different woman. He’s only just learning that. She tucks a strand of wet, curly hair behind her ear and smiles. Unlike her, she’s showered. They were warned that there might not be enough warm water for two showers. There was no question who would use it.

“Sure, why not? I haven’t played that since college.” She grabs a Twinkies from their pile of dinner. They plundered the vending machine, the only source of food in this place. With the snowstorm raging outside there is no way they can go anywhere. They’re lucky they made it here at all. Their only losses Scully’s clothes; they never had a chance.

“We don‘t have any alcohol.”

“We can play with water.”

“You’re so boring, Scully.” She shrugs.

“We can just sit here in silence and not play.”

“Fine, we’ll play with water.”

The room is equipped with two beds, a fact Mulder tries not to be disappointed about. Scully sits Indian style on hers, as if this were a school trip. Clad in her robe she bears no resemblance to Agent Scully. It only occurs to him that maybe playing this juvenile game is not the best idea. But he’s not about to call it off either.

“You go first,” Scully says, licking her lips. There’s a crumb stuck on her lips still and Mulder can’t help staring at it. Most days he doesn’t allow himself to think of Scully as anything but his partner. It’s as dangerous a road as the one they traveled today, blankets of snow making the journey a difficult one. They weathered that storm. This, he fears, is a different one. The tip of her tongue catches the lone crumb and she smiles at him as if she was doing this on purpose. Mulder hands Scully one of the yellow plastic cups he’s filled with water. He doesn’t shy away from this dangerous road either.

“Never have I ever lied about my age.”

“And you call me boring, Mulder.” Scully takes a sip from her cup. “Never have I ever said the wrong name during sex.” Scully grins at him and he swallows hard, gripping his cup. He doesn’t drink. Scully chuckles, mouthing another ‘boring’. Here he thought he had the upper hand. Another thing he’s beginning to understand: when it comes to him and Scully, he never has the upper hand.

“Never have I ever made out with a co-worker.” Scully drinks, her eyes firmly set on Mulder. This game was a bad idea.

“I told you about Jack Willis.” She shrugs and he nods. “Have you ever wanted to make out with a co-worker, Mulder?”

“That’s not a never have I ever question, Scully.” He grins, thinking he’s dodged the question. His mouth feels dry; Scully is so much better at this game and he fears he’s never going to get a sip of his water.

“Never have I ever fantasized about my work partner.” Oh yeah, she is definitely way better at this than he could ever be. He holds his cup up in fake victory before he takes a sip.

“I lied.” He watches as Scully puts her mouth to the cup, taking a big sip. “Let‘s play a different game.”

“Which one?”

“Truth or Dare.”

“Is that a good idea?” Scully changes her position and her robe gapes open, not revealing much, but enough to spark his imagination. Maybe he should go outside, take a dive in the cold, wet snow. He could do with a cooling off.

“Truth or dare, Mulder?”

“Truth.”

“Am I the work partner you’ve fantasized about?“ He considers lying. They’re stuck here in this room, snow piling up outside; they’re the only two people. The lights flicker every once in a while; who knows how long they’ll have power. He doesn’t have any power left himself. If the storm continues, the radiator might malfunction, leaving them without heat. That they must create, together. Right now Mulder can’t imagine being cold. He eyes Scully with her pink cheeks, her make-up free face and freckles. He should lie. He should. And yet…

"Yes.” He downs the last of his water, wishing it was something much, much stronger. “Truth or dare, Scully?”

“I‘m going with truth, too.”

“Are you wearing any underwear under your robe?”

“Hmmm, no.” She’s hiding her smile behind the cup. Mulder licks his lips, trying to keep his eyes above that very tempting v right over her breasts. Her naked breasts. She is naked under this thin layer of cotton. “I had to take it off. It was wet.” Mulder just nods, looking away. “Truth, Mulder? Or dare?”

“Tr- truth.” He’s not sure he’s going to survive a dare.

“Would you like me to prove to you that I’m not wearing underwear?” He has to look at her, he just has to. The robe is still closed, mostly. A few shadows hint at what’s hidden underneath.

“Scully…”

“Answer the question, please.”

“Yes,” he mumbles it, almost hoping she won’t hear. No such look. She chuckles; a low, deep sound he’s never heard before. He doesn’t dare question it.

“It’s your turn,” she reminds him when he remains quiet.

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare.” He doesn’t allow himself to look anywhere but her face. He knows what he’s going to ask her to do. His heart is pounding. He wipes his sweaty hands on his pants. They feel much tighter than they did mere minutes ago.

“Open your robe.” His request hangs between them for a moment and all they have to do is reach out and take it. It’s Scully’s decision. She might call him a pervert, call him an asshole or… he lifts his eyes and she’s waiting. As soon as she is aware of him watching, she loosens the belt and the fabric pools away from her body. Her breasts come into focus and Mulder gasps. He lets his eyes wander lower and lower and lower.

“Truth or dare, Mulder?” Her voice is luscious, a caress. His sex throbs, dictating his next move.

“Dare.” The word falls from his mouth easily. As if this wasn’t sealing their future. Whatever happens next, tomorrow when the snow melts, when they go back home to their real lives, he doesn’t have regrets. Not a single one.

“Touch me,” Scully says and Mulder doesn’t hesitate. He is on her in seconds, their mouths hot against each other. Their tongues stroke and tease, just getting to know each other in this new, intimate way. Scully moans into his mouth as his hands slip under her robe, removing it. He cups her breasts and is fascinated by how perfectly they fit into his hands.

“Get… naked… Mulder,” Scully groans into his mouth, against his lips and he obeys. With her help, they get his shirt off. He forgets to breathe as Scully’s hands roam over his chest.

“Breathe, Mulder. You‘ll need your breath.” She winks at him, kisses his lips quickly, as her hands nestle at his pants. She looks into his eyes as her hand wanders inside his boxers, freeing his weeping penis. She’s gently stroking him and he fears he’s losing his mind, what’s left of his sanity.

“Scully.” It’s a prayer, a question, a declaration. “Never have I ever,” her hand stills, one of her eyebrows shooting up, “made love to my partner while caught in a snowstorm.”

“Next time you play this game,” Scully says, cupping his balls, “you’ll have to drink if that one comes up.”


End file.
